


Photo Booth

by nothingwrongwiththerain



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, SO MUCH FLUFF, and then fluff, starts 1940s, then WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 02:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1802227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwrongwiththerain/pseuds/nothingwrongwiththerain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and yanked him into the booth before he could protest</p>
<p>In which Steve and Bucky make out in a photo booth and Steve keeps the pictures safe as long as he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photo Booth

“Hey Buck, come here”

“Yah Steve?”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and yanked him into the booth before he could protest. 

“What are you–”?

“Smile!” Steve tugged the curtain closed and hit the button. He fed the quarters in as Bucky walked up, and had been waiting eagerly. 

Bucky hesitated, then grinned at the camera a heartbeat before it flashed. Steve wasn’t looking, eyes trained on Bucky. Hastily licking his lips, Steve reached up and caught Bucky’s face. 

Flash 

Bucky turned, startled, as Steve pulled him in for a kiss. 

Flash

The first kiss was messy, but Bucky figured out what Steve was doing between the third and fourth camera shutter, dipped his face down and got a hand in Steve’s hair before the final flash. 

The machine whirred; Steve pushed Bucky off with a laugh. 

“Jeez, a little warning Stevie?” Bucky had the good sense not to look scandalized as he followed Steve out of the booth. He glanced at the dispenser; the strip of black and white squares was already disappearing into Steve’s pocket. 

They laughed over the pictures back at the apartment. Bucky a little giddy from Steve’s daring, Steve sporting a mischievous grin. The squabbled over who should keep the photos. Then Bucky enlisted, went to training and the photos became Steve’s. Nothing private, even personal belongings, in the army. 

-

The photographs made it overseas tucked securely in the pages of Steve’s sketchbook. However careful he’d been with them, the edges were worn. He meant to leave them at home but couldn’t; he’d been forced to part with enough things in his life. He would keep the glossy paper and memories. Just in case. Steve intended to join the fight, and if he didn’t come back, anybody could find them, someone he never met and had no right to know. 

For a few moments, Steve believed the pictures were all he had left, all of Bucky–. But he abandoned that fear and jumped off a plane. Snuck behind enemy lines, took back what he could not afford to lose. He hadn’t known what he was doing; barely an outline of a plan but there wasn’t an alternative. And if he instigated a jailbreak in the process, well that was fine too. 

Bucky was reserved following the rescue, had it in his head Steve didn’t need him anymore. Then he saw the photos poking out of Steve’s jacket pocket on the march back. 

They were patient, waited for a quiet moment to pull tent canvas - like the curtain of the photo booth – between them and the rest of the world. Steve clung to Bucky for a while, kissed him soundly and tried to give the photographs back. As if it were his turn, as if Steve had them for too long. Bucky shook his head. 

“You kept ‘em safe this long” Bucky smiled, only just. His was a step removed from the man in the photos. Bruised, grubby and weighed down by shadows and stories. Steve couldn’t think of a time he loved Bucky more. Because he was there. Breathing. Alive.

“Alright” Steve replied, a little shyly “but you gotta promise me one thing”

“What’s that,” Bucky said, interlacing their fingers. 

“Never do that again”

Bucky sighed softly, bit his lip. “Okay Stevie. I’ll try”

-

They traveled across Europe; Steve, Bucky, and the weathered photoset. Agent Carter, sharp as she was, figured them out without the aid of any incriminating photos. To Steve’s surprise, she merely pursed her lips and shook her head at his fumbling excuses. Her tolerance did come with a warning. 

“Not everyone is an opened minded” she said in her clipped accent. “You would do well to not to advertise this”

Steve nodded, blushing furiously. She’d cornered him behind the makeshift command center. 

“Good” her expression softened. “I like you Steve. I’ll help where I can.” 

“Thank you” He choked out. “I don’t know how to–”

“Don’t get caught,” she said with a small smile. 

Steve was surprised how little changed between them. She rapidly became one of the best friends he’d ever had. He added another picture to his collection, tucked her face in his compass as a reminder of the kind of people he was fighting for. 

-

 

Then the photoset was all Steve had. 

Bucky was gone, trapped by the snow while the train carried Steve away without his permission. Steve stared at their faces over the top of his glass, alone in a bombed out shell of a bar. The photo booth had been a simple thing; spur of the moment decision to document was Steve already suspected he couldn’t bear to lose. 

Now he knew for certain. So he stormed the base, scattered forces that tried to stop him and took control of the plane. Steve hadn’t thought much beyond this mission, lost himself in the planning and execution. When crashing became the last and only option, he found the circumstances fitting. 

Steve propped the image of Agent Carter up on the dash, continued talking so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. Wondered uselessly if the ice would ruin the photos snug against his chest. 

-

 

Seventy years later and he had his answer: No. Not as badly as they could have been at least. Edges blurred from water damage; Steve was amazed the photos weren’t overlooked by whatever team brought him in. If Steve asking if any personal effects survived the crash surprised Fury, he didn’t show it. 

The following morning, an envelope and a compass had appeared on Steve’s kitchen counter. He opened the latter and stared at the grainy, back and white faces. The first image was lost, had gotten ripped somehow. And yet, the second to last was recognizable, the fourth clear enough to be made out by someone who hadn’t spent months stealing glances at it. 

Steve slid the photoset into a new sketchbook, out of sight. Now wasn’t the time. 

-

Six months following the incident in DC and their worlds fell apart and are coming back together. Bucky’s been making progress since Steve found him, reconciling who he was, who he is now. Steve’s been there every step of the way; has trouble believing sometimes how the first thing Bucky remembered was that he trusted Steve. Only took another month, slogging through memories, nightmares and trepidation till Bucky put it together: they had been in love. As it was, they still were. 

Once the doctors deemed the security risk low, they moved in together, got their own floor of the newly christened ‘Avengers Tower’ at Starks insistence. Steve was thrown by the team’s acceptance, Bucky had enough fractured memories to suggest this kind of behavior was relatively normal in the 21st century. 

It’s June, a week after the last threat to national security or evil scientist has made a move, and the team is lazing around in the common room, brought together by the promise of food. Tony is on the floor, tapping on his laptop and gesturing for Rhody to get off his phone and watch some of the news footage from the latest disaster. 

Clint is banging around in the kitchen, complaining about the lack of food while Natasha orders take out. On the floor opposite Tony, Pepper is flipping through pages of the clean energy bill she’s backing on her tablet.   
Bruce was reading, but is now thoroughly distracted by the increasingly vocal game of Mario Kart Sam and Bucky are having. Steve’s on the couch both Bucky and Sam are propped up against, working on a sketch of Pepper, who doesn’t visit as often as the others. 

Steve’s almost finished, flips the page to upset the eraser dust and dislodges a thin glossy strip. It flutters out and lands next to Bucky, who glances down when Steve tenses behind him.

“What’sa matter Stev–” Bucky’s words trail off, he’s oblivious to the blue shell pulverizing his character and Sam’s derisive ‘ha!’

Lifting the faded, worn, ripped, water-stained photoset so carefully, Bucky frowns. He clenches his jaw, squinting – an expression Steve’s seen countless times when Bucky is trying to untangle one specific memory from the mess. 

“This is us”

Steve nods, not sure how much to say. He’s prompted Bucky a few times when he gets frustrated recalling details, but usually at Bucky’s request. Steve knows not to push, didn’t mean to fling a reminder that loaded at him. 

“It was your idea” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, Sam’s moved off to distract Tony, give them some space. 

“Yah,” Steve huffed a low laugh “Guess it was”

Gently, Bucky passes the pictures back. “Gotta keep a hold of that Stevie” Bucky’s says, testing the words out, a bit of his Brooklyn twang surfacing “Held onto it this long”

“Of course Buck” Steve can’t quite mask the emotion in his voice. Bucky’s a near perfect echo of a past conversation, blurry reflection of a different lifetime. 

Bucky blinks, looks sharply up at Steve. “Could we…” He stops, shakes his head. “Never mind” 

“Hey” Steve puts a hand on his shoulder. They’ve been working on this since day one, when Bucky refused to (or couldn’t) ask for anything, wouldn’t eat or sleep without express permission. Things were less drastic now, but Bucky had a hard time asking for things that weren’t strictly necessary. 

“I think, I wanted–” Bucky cut off, trying to fix his tenses, “I want one. Of us”

A few seconds pass while Steve puts Bucky’s oddly worded request in order. “A picture?”

“Yah” Bucky is staring at his knees, worrying his lower lip. 

“Okay” Steve slides off the couch, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Come here” 

Holding his phone at arms length like Natasha showed him, Steve catches the back of Bucky’s neck with his free hand and ducks in before Bucky can say anything. Tilting his head back, Bucky lets Steve deepen their kiss for the few seconds it takes for Steve to snap a few pictures. Bucky pulls back, glancing around guilty-like. 

And Steve laughs because Bucky is honest to god blushing and the only two people in the room who may have noticed are Sam and Natasha. Even better, Steve’s is laughing because it doesn’t matter who saw. No more curtains to hide behind, crowds to appease – he can kiss Bucky and the only risk he’s taking is embarrassing his boyfriend to death. 

Which is why, a few days later, Steve gets a thrill out of finding Bucky’s changed his phones wallpaper. It’s an image not unlike the ones Steve’s been carrying around for most of his life, capturing the closed-eyes half-smiles of their kiss by the couch. This picture is cycled out soon, replaced by another; similar but with a park in the background – and another, in a local coffee shop – and another, fireworks for Steve’s birthday as a backdrop – and another, a public event, the crowd behind them in a colorful uproar. 

Because while it was Steve’s idea, and Steve’s been carrying the photographs longer, Bucky is just as in love with recording these moments. They root him firmly in the present, a simple reminder, one constant regardless of the changing background.

**Author's Note:**

> This was quick and short and I saw a tumblr post about gay guys using photo booths so they had keepsake pictures because if they got caught developing pictures they would be in trouble/risk arrest/other unfair treatment. And my brain went straight to Steve and Bucky being dorks and now there is this I got a little carried away. A thousand million thanks to my wonderful beta reader/girlfriend for making everything I write so much better.


End file.
